The Fifth Bag Slot
by In The Clouds
Summary: Inventory space is at a premium, but there's always room for few more tales in Tyria! Join a reformed norn and a two-faced asura as they both seek very different things from life in the Durmand Priory.
1. Prologue

**The Fifth Bag Slot: Prologue**

_In which Batanga, the asura who taught us that black leather isn't just for humans, swoops in to set the plot in motion._

"DO YOU CRAVE DISCOVERY?" A voice boomed over the marketplace din of Rata Sum. "Knowledge awaits those ambitious explorers who become members of the DURMAND PRIORY!"

Aize knew better than to make eye contact. Alas, it did not save her.

"YOU THERE!" The spokesman made a show of pointing to her. "Are you tired of living in mediocrity? The Durmand Priory offers YOU the chance become a part of something bigger. Join us in our quest for knowledge!" He finished his proclamation with a flourish by shoving a brightly colored brochure at her. "I hope to see you soon, recruit!" Just like that, he went back to working the crowd.

Aize scowled at him and the brochure wrinkled in her grip, but he paid her no mind. So, she continued walking. Past the sunny marketplace where asura haggled over gollum parts, down into the inner walls of the floating cube city, and finally, to a cool and secluded corner of the city map. The stone was nice and mossy here, with jungle vines starting to creep in along the walls. It was a dead-end place that hardly anyone wound up at, but that was why Aize liked it. She shrugged her backpack off her shoulders and grimaced as it hit the ground with a squelching sound. It was full of meat chunks. Nothing appetizing - just the cuts that were too old or too unsavory for the Rata Sum meat merchant to make a profit off of. Every few days, her crazy Aunt Yibbi would send Aize with a couple of copper coins into town to buy the meat for the most uncouth of purposes: skelk bait.

It was hardly a job for a recent graduate of the College of Dynamics. But until she could find a krewe willing to take her on, Aize was stuck with crazy Aunt Yibbi harvesting skelk gland secretions. Processed skelk byproduct was the best way to make black powder, and selling it made a pretty steady living. However, it was far from an intellectual occupation and one certainly didn't make many friends camping out in the jungle hunting skelk.

With these thoughts for company, Aize was on the verge of throwing herself a pity party when the Durmand Priory brochure still crumpled in her hand caught her attention. She sat down against the stone wall and gingerly smoothed out the corners of the paper.

"You're not seriously thinking of joining that 'Durr-man' Priory, are you kid?"

Aize jumped to her feet at the voice and was shocked to see another asura watching her. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a body posture that screamed 'cooler than thou' stared down at her.

"Name's Batanga," The stranger said, leaning against the wall and looking bored. "Anyway, the Priory's not where you wanna be – all books and no brains."

"Who are you?" Aize said, trying not to sound startled.

"What? Don't tell me you don't recognize the getup?" Batanga gestured to her rather ornate clothing. It was black leather and deep red cloth, with sharp gold shuriken tucked into the belt. When Aize didn't respond, Batanga rolled her eyes. "Agent Batanga, Order of Whispers representative of the City of Rata Sum."

Aize tried to take this in, "I thought the Order of Whispers was just conspiracy theory…"

Batanga gave her an amused look. "You don't get out of the jungle much, do ya kid? Time to quit skinning skelk, Aize."

"How do you know my name?" Aize asked cautiously.

"It's my job to know everything about everybody," Batanga winked at her. "When you were three, your parents died in an explosion in the Pyrotechnics Lab."

"Widely regarded as the sixth most visually impressive explosion in the history of Rata Sum." Aize interrupted, rehearsed and proud.

Batanga nodded and continued, "So you were sent off to live with crazy old Yibbi…"

"She's certifiably demented." Aize interrupted again in defense of her aunt. "It's a chemical imbalance."

"Riiiiiight. So you managed to survive childhood and finally got into the College of Dynamics, where you barely graduated because you're…" She seemed to search for a word, but then shook her head. "Weird," she finished.

Aize scowled. "Look, I'm not crazy. My aunt's dementia is not genetic. And if I don't happen to have all the facts straight one hundred percent of the time because I was raised by someone living in their own reality it is not my fault!"

"Whoa, relaaax kid!" Batanga held her hands up. "I didn't come here to judge. In fact, all this 'outcast of society' stuff is what makes you a prime candidate."

Aize calmed down enough to be intrigued. "…candidate for what?"

Batanga smiled conspiratorially and leaned in close. "For the Order, of course. Whispers is looking for some 'unknown' to help us…borrow some information from the Durmand Priory."

It took Aize a minute, but she got there. "Spy?"

Batanga wrinkled her nose at the term. "Informant," she corrected. "Anyway, this agent would need to get herself recruited as Priory student and remain undercover, gathering intel, until mission end or reassignment."

Aize looked doubtful. "And why would I do this?"

Batanga sighed, tossing her hair back and putting an unwelcome arm around Aize's shoulder. "Listen kid, we don't just do this stuff 'cause it's fun. Tyria's changing – been changing, and it's not all good. The Order pulls strings that save entire civilizations from total war; things the rest of the world never even sees, but we all benefit from. And look," She said, stepping back to look at Aize directly. "I know it may not seem this way, but I didn't just randomly pick you 'cause you're pretty. From what I know about you – and as we already established, that's quite a lot – I think you'd be a good fit for this assignment."

Aize stood there, uncertain.

"But, y'know," Batanga inspected the tips of her claws. "If skinning skelk is your life's ambition, don't let me stop you."

"I'll do it."

"That 'a girl." Batanga smiled. "I'll get your Order initiation papers set up. You'll be the Durmand Priory's newest fake student before you know it!"

"Where is this Durmand Priory?" Aize asked, excited and trying desperately not to let the fear of the unknown creep in.

"See for yourself," Batanga pointed to the Priory brochure left lying on the ground.

Aize picked it up and inspected the brochure picture. "It's a library," she said blankly.

"What?" Batanga looked surprised and snatched the paper out of Aize's hand. "Well well well, what do you know?" She laughed. "Looks like they finally wised up about that old outdoor picture!"

"Yes, but where is it?" Aize asked impatiently over Batanga's chuckling.

The whispers agent only winked at her. "Better pack warm, kid."


	2. Excavation 101

**The Fifth Bag Slot: Excavation 101**

_In which much back-story is presented upfront, and our two protagonists meet and are frankly unimpressed with each other._

Anchor the Storm (so named for the hailstorm of arrows he once sent raining down on a marauding band of the Sons of Svanir) had never felt so out of place before. His cozy fur garments had been replaced by a blue cloth robe, and he'd exchanged his beloved bow and quiver for a stack of thick books. Despite seeing his fellow norn, and even the occasional charr, wandering the Durmand Priory halls around him, Anchor felt like a Jotun at a tea party. Always the braggart, always the last one to leave the moot – but, he had to remind himself, he was not that man anymore. No, the man he wanted to be was dead.

His grandfather, wise and selfless for as long as Anchor had known him, had passed away peacefully. It wasn't until after he was gone that Anchor realized how important his grandfather had been; not only to him, but to his entire village. Fights broke out more often now; there were disputes over hunting rights and gossip that wounded egos and created hostility. Anchor, well-liked and respected in the village, had tried to step up as a sort of leader. He'd tried to settle the arguments and restore the community. But no matter how friendly his speeches or unshakeable his threats, he simply could not be what his people needed, and it frustrated him.

And so it was that Anchor decided to change everything about his life and about himself. He gave up the hunt for glory and took up the hunt for wisdom. He would be the type of man his grandfather was; his first step: joining the Durmand Priory. He was determined and resolved, but so far, things hadn't been very easy…or very fun.

He arrived early to his first class: "Excavation 101." Some students were waiting patiently while others began to file into the room. Conscious of people staring at him, Anchor awkwardly shuffled through the rows of desks to the back, where several larger desks that looked made for norn or charr were available. He sat and shuffled his books and pencils around for a moment, then risked a glance towards the charr student seated on his left. Her head was bowed and she stared unblinkingly at the surface of her desk, muttering a constant stream of noises to herself that Anchor couldn't quite make out. He quickly looked away and wondered if he'd made a bad seating choice.

His attention was soon elsewhere when another student entered the room. A dark haired asura with bright yellow eyes took a quick survey of the classroom, and then headed straight towards Anchor's row. He stared at her in disbelief as she made herself comfortable in the extra-large desk to his right. As a self-appointed wise future leader of the norn, Anchor felt compelled to say something:

"Isn't that chair a little big for you?"

The asura looked at him, seeming to scan him from head to toe, and then said simply: "Small spaces are not conducive to big-picture thinking."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, and Anchor had just resigned himself to being sat between injustice and insanity, when the asura suddenly deemed him worthy of her attention once more. She turned, a wide and rather creepy smile stretched across her face. "My name is Aize, what's yours?"

"Anchor the Storm." Anchor answered guardedly.

"Oh, how…picturesque." Aize said through pointy white teeth. "How long have you been enrolled at the Priory?"

"This is my first day." Anchor replied.

"Oh." The asura's smile dropped instantly as though he had given her the wrong answer. Before anything more could be said though, their teacher arrived at the front of the room.

"Good morning, future scholars and explorers!" the teacher greeted, and Anchor's first Priory class began.

* * *

Anchor closed his dorm room door behind him and flopped face first onto his bed. His brain was fried. He couldn't do this. He just wasn't cut out for it –

No. He sat up, smoothed back the long red hair on his head and face, and took a calming breath. He could do this. This was a challenge, and he loved challenges, he reminded himself. Tonight, he was going to find the closest place that served beer and he was going to get through this.

As he was debating whether or not he could wear his furs again now that the day's classes were over, a knock sounded at his door. Curious, he opened it, but there was no one there.

"Ehem."

Anchor looked straight down and discovered Aize waiting on his doorstep. Judging by the scowl on her face, she wasn't any happier to see him than he was to see her.

"I require your assistance," she said at length.

"With what?" Anchor asked bluntly, wondering how she'd found his room.

Aize sighed, rolled her eyes, and then her entire demeanor did a sudden one-eighty degree turn. That creepy, over-stretched smile was back. "Someone of your intelligence and altitude could surely satisfy my requirement for assistance of the vertical kind," she said in a sugary sweet tone.

It was all Anchor could do not to slam the door and hide in his room, away from this creature. As it was, he figured that maybe if he just did what she wanted, she would leave him alone. "Uh, what is it, exactly, that you want again?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"This way. Please." Aize said sweetly.

He followed the asura down the halls, up a flight of stairs into the girls' dorm room area. Aize invited him into her room, and then pointed to a stack of books on a high shelf.

"There." Aize said. "My roommate has displayed signs of jealously towards my intelligence. Out of spite, she has relocated my books to that shelf, which was designed without forethought to racial accommodation."

"Oh, you want me to reach your books for you." Whoever this roommate was, Anchor doubted that placing books on a bookshelf counted as a 'spiteful.' He easily brought them down. "Here you go."

"Thank you. I was nearly unable to complete our reading assignment, your assistance is appreciated."

Anchor was just about to say 'you're welcome' and leave, when something clicked: "Reading assignment?"

"Yes."

"How can there be a reading assignment; I just got my books today!" Anchor wiped a hand across his face. "How many chapters?"

"Five."

"Five!"Panic was starting to make his normally deep voice a few octaves higher. "Well- okay, alright, how many pages is a chapter?"

Aize raised an eyebrow at him. "It's really not that difficult. Basic geology – ground types and their optimal excavation procedures, that's all it is."

Her words only made Anchor feel more overwhelmed. He groaned and wondered if this meant skipping tonight's beer. Or maybe his situation called for more beer…

"I suppose," Aize tilted her head at him. "I suppose I could sum it up for you. Since you helped me."

It was a desperate norn that agreed to listen to an asura lecture, but Anchor knew he'd be a fool to turn down the offer.

* * *

By the end of the night, lying awake in his new dorm bed, Anchor felt good. It wasn't a feeling brought on by beer, or by boasting to a tavern filled with warm bodies. It was a different kind of satisfaction. Even after one day, Anchor felt like a better person. He'd stuck to his resolutions; his head was sore, but it was sore like a muscle after a good work out. Maybe this lifestyle wasn't fun like being free of responsibilities was fun, but maybe, Anchor reflected, maybe it could be worth it.

* * *

_A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!_


	3. The Cup Calamity

** The Fifth Bag Slot: The Cup Calamity**

_In which much fun is poked at the Durmand Priory, and character bonding happens._

Anchor was feeling proud of himself; four days of classes at the Durmand Priory and he'd managed to be early to every one so far. It was a good start to being a good student. The only other student who was consistently there before him was a young human girl. She wore blonde pigtails, and had somehow found a way to customize her priory robe so that the top wasn't high enough and the skirt wasn't low enough – a fashion straight out of Queensdale. She also seemed to be in the running for the position of teacher's pet, an attitude which didn't impress Anchor in the least.

Eventually, his desk neighbors arrived. He still didn't know the name of the charr on his left, but until she quit staring at the floor and muttering to herself, he wasn't going to ask her. Aize appeared to still be half asleep as she crawled into the oversized chair beside him. A guilty thought tugged at him.

"I'm not keeping you awake, am I? Because I can study the homework by myself, I don't need a tutor every night." Anchor was only half serious. The truth was, he hated reading the material, and it felt like he didn't understand whole parts of what he was reading anyway. It was so easy just to walk up the stairs and find Aize, ask a simple question, and get a full summary of the entire assignment right there. Even if she did give him a sour look every time.

"It's not you." Aize yawned.

Their professor entered the room right on time. He shuffled his papers and then began writing "KNOW THE SIGNS OF A DREDGE SINK HOLE" in big letters on the chalkboard.

"Before we begin this morning," the teacher addressed the class. "I'd like to remind students participating in the field trip this afternoon of a few details."

Anchor listened intently. He was signed up for the field trip – his first look at a side of the Priory that didn't involve books.

"First, this is an old excavation site we'll be visiting; that said: if _anyone_ finds _anything_ that could be an uncovered artifact, they are to report it the excavation team immediately." The teacher fixed the class with a stern glare. An unfortunate latecomer happened to enter the classroom just then; the charr student shuffled into the room, looking like he wished the floor would swallow him up. He paused to give Aize a pitiful, pleading, glance, but she pretended not to notice him. So he gave up and squeezed himself as best he could into a human-sized desk. Anchor felt sorry for him.

"Excuse me, professor?" The teacher's pet wannabe piped up, twirling a blonde pigtail between her fingers.

"Yes, Miss Crystal?"

"Is this the site that scholar's claim was once a dwarven arsenal, dating back nearly a thousand years ago? The one containing the first dwarven-made war hammer excavated by the Priory?" Crystal asked, though it was clear she wasn't really _asking _so much as displaying her own knowledge.

Before the teacher could respond, Aize suddenly sat up straight, "That can't be right. The dredge raided the arsenals after the uprising; all known dwarven war hammers were discovered on dredge sites."

"Miss Aize is correct." The teacher nodded, and Crystal looked furious. "Now, departure for the site begins at noon sharp; you're encouraged to bring notebooks and pencils…"

The teacher droned on and Anchor had to stop his feet from fidgeting. He couldn't wait to get out of his desk!

* * *

It was windy in the valley, but the sunshine made it bearable. Their little class group stayed huddled together, being shuffled from one area of interest to the next by the Sylvari in charge of the dig site. Anchor tried his best to pay attention. It was hard though, with the smell of new spring grass in the air and the curious animals that watched the site from a distance. It was great to be out in the wilderness again.

The tour was short and their teacher dismissed them to explore on their own, much to every students' delight. Anchor walked around on his own for a bit, then caught up with Aize to share the spring fever.

He took a deep breath and let it out. "This is great, isn't it?"

Aize cocked an eyebrow at him. "You didn't strike me as the excavating type."

"Not that, _this_." Anchor stretched his arms out wide and enjoyed not hitting any walls. "Getting out of that building. I don't care what's under this ground; spirits, I haven't tasted fresh air in days! " He sat and rubbed his hands all over the soft grass.

Aize still looked skeptical. "So…" she started counting on her fingers, "you don't care about artifacts, you hate reading, you look like you're in physical pain every time a lecture goes on for over an hour…I must be missing a vector. Why did you even join the Priory?"

Anchor stared a moment, then broke out into booming laughter. "Do I really look like that during the lectures?" He finished chuckling, "No, you're right. I'm not good at this stuff, not yet anyway."

Aize bit her lip, still trying to figure him out. "…so you're a masochist?" She ventured.

"I joined the Priory because this will make me a better person." He smiled at her and sighed. "I didn't used to think this way. I wasn't…I wasn't a very good person before. I used to go hunting all the time, to places like these," he gestured to the valley around them. "Then I'd go home whenever I felt like it, just to boast to my friends, my family." He paused, and his smile faded a little. "That's a selfish life."

The asura's expression softened. "Did something happen to your family?"

Anchor was surprised; apparently, Aize could be sensitive to others when she wanted to be.

"My grandfather," He confirmed. "I didn't appreciate him before…but he's the reason I joined the Priory."

Aize gave him a long and thoughtful look. "That's noble." She said finally.

Anchor wiped his hands on his trousers. "So, why did you join the Priory?"

Her eyes went wide. "Why did I join the Priory?" She repeated, the question seeming to catch her completely off guard.

"Yeah," Anchor waited.

"I, well, because…well, why does anybody join, really? I'm here for the intel – ah, information. I'm here to gather information…you know, learning, just like anybody would be." She finished by giving Anchor wide smile full of teeth.

The awkward moment was interrupted when a fellow classmate came running up to them. "Guys, come here! You'll want to check this out!"

They followed him to where their entire class had gathered in a circle, all looking at something in the ground.

"I was just moving the crate to sit on it, you know," an excited asura student with ears bigger than the rest of his body was saying, "when I looked under the crate and saw it there; just buried in the ground right there!"

Sure enough, barely visible on the surface of the packed brown dirt was something that was decidedly _not _dirt.

"Do you think it could be an artifact?" Big-ears chattered happily. "Oh, I should go alert the excavation team!"

Crystal scoffed. "Did you forget your brain back at school? You can't tell them about this!" Everyone looked at her, and Crystal rolled her eyes. "How do you think they got their jobs, hmm? The priory doesn't promote just anybody; you don't prove yourself, you get stuck pushing books! And now you want to give the credit to a team that _already has_ an excavation job?"

"What should I do?" The asura asked uncertainly.

"We'll dig it up ourselves," Crystal decided. "Who's got tools?"

"Oh, I left my portable excavation kit back on the supply dolyak!" The asura rushed off to get his kit.

Crystal knelt and brushed a hand over the ground. "No discernible markings… no obvious shape yet. I wonder what it could be."

"Well, we know it's not a dwarven war hammer," Aize quipped. Crystal gave her such a murderous look that Anchor was afraid he'd have to restrain somebody. Luckily, big-ears came running back with his tools.

"I've got it!" He pulled a miniature pickaxe out, carefully aimed the point into the dirt, pulled his arms over his head, and then swung down with all his might.

"Not even a dent," someone observed sadly.

"Let me try," Anchor moved to grab the pickaxe, but Crystal held up a hand to stop him.

"No! You'll only wind up cracking the artifact." She tapped her chin in thought. "It's this dirt; it never got any rain being under these crates. We need a way to soften up the area."

Aize snapped her fingers. "I'll need a long stick," she said, "and some dry, red cloth; long enough to tie." Someone found a stick, and another student untied a red sash from his waist.

They watched as Aize took the stick and wrapped the cloth over one end, and then drilled the other end into the ground until her makeshift flag stood straight up.

"What are you doing?" Anchor questioned.

Aize gave him a look of pure condescension. "Getting us some rain. The dehydrated alchemic energy from the ground will travel up the conduit, attracting rainclouds."

Anchor saw everyone in the group around him exchange glances. The big eared asura spoke up first: "No," he said slowly, "I don't think that's true…where are you getting this data?"

Aize looked like she was about to tell him off too, when she suddenly froze. Anchor could practically see the cogs in her head turning. "You can't attract rainclouds with this…" she whispered, a look of horror coming over her face.

"Nooooo," big-ears repeated, shaking his head. Crystal, however, was not so delicate.

"You – you actually thought you could make your little flag and call down rain?" She laughed so hard she started snorting. "How did you even make it past the entrance exams?"

Aize kept her head down and didn't respond. Her loose hair covered her face and hid any expression.

"What's next? Do you have a little rain dance you're going to do for us?" Crystal grabbed her sides and continued to laugh as Aize quietly walked away from the group, never looking up. "Okay, okay." Crystal got control of herself. "Does anyone have any _real _ideas?"

There was talk of grabbing buckets and forming a chain from the site to the river, but it was quickly decided that would draw too much attention. A novice elementalist in the group splashed the ground a bit, but couldn't muster enough water for the whole area. When at last it was suggested that they could all take turns peeing on the artifact, Anchor finally left the group.

He found the excavation team overseer neck-deep in some ruins nearby. If felt right to tell him about the newly discovered artifact; much better than taking the credit for himself would have, Anchor thought. He should have just done it in the first place.

The senior priory team acted as twitterpated over the discovery as the students had; fortunately, they still had more experience. They shooed students away from the site and starting making preparations to dig. The class teacher went on about how lucky they were to be able to watch as "history unfolded." Anchor stayed to watch for a little bit, but when conversation started again over how soften up the ground, he left.

Taking a walk around, he soon found where Aize had disappeared to. On a small hill away from the camp, behind a supply dolyak grazing peacefully, she sat with her knees pulled to her chest and her eyes red-rimmed. Anchor felt torn; he knew she wasn't likely to appreciate his sympathy, but his better nature wouldn't allow him to just leave her there.

She turned away when she saw him approach. "I don't wish to converse right now."

Anchor sat down beside her anyway. He couldn't think of anything to say, but he tried to make the silence companionable.

After a while, Aize glanced up at him. "I'm not crazy, you know."

"The stick thing actually works?" Anchor asked, surprised.

"_No!_" Aize said forcefully. "No, it doesn't. But it's not _my _idea. This is all Aunt Yibbi's fault!" she sighed, then laughed bitterly. "Do you know the effects of being raised by a person with dementia? No, of course you wouldn't; there's hardly any research on the subject. I should conduct a self-study and publish the results!"

"Um," Anchor started.

"And _of course_ you can't attract rainclouds with a stick in the ground – what was I thinking! But somebody tells you this when you're only two years old and you just don't _question_ it!" She rubbed her hands over her face. "You'd think I would learn by now - this is college all over again! But you go somewhere new, where nobody knows you and nobody knows about these _stupid _mistakes, and you just forget…" she shook her head. "I made a fool out of myself _again_."

Anchor didn't know what to say to all that, but he recognized a pity party when he saw one. He also knew how to give a pep talk. "Listen, everybody makes mistakes; it doesn't make you a fool. You're still smarter than most people here." He grimaced, "And don't pay attention to anything Crystal says."

Aize groaned. "I can't just ignore her…"

"Sure you can," Anchor boomed.

Aize glared at him. "No, I mean, I literally _cannot _ignore her. She's my roommate."

"Crystal is your roommate?" Anchor blinked. "She _is_ spiteful."

Aize sent him an annoyed glance. "That's what I told you."

"It doesn't matter." Anchor said. "You can't let your confidence depend on other people so much." He gave her a friendly pat on the back. "You're better than that."

"Hmm," was all Aize said, but a little half smile appeared on her face. They lapsed into silence, and this time it truly was companionable.

A student waved them down eventually. "Hey, we're packing up!"

As they got closer to the group getting ready for the hike back to Priory, they could hear the asura who'd found the buried artifact chattering excitedly. "…and did you see when they finally pulled it out of the ground? I've never seen something so magnificent!"

"What was it?" Anchor asked him.

"A cup!" The asura couldn't have looked more pleased.

"A cup?" Anchor questioned.

"A cup." Crystal responded bitterly, strapping a pack onto her shoulders.

"Yes, a dwarven cup," big-ears went on happily. "They're going to clean it up and display it at the Priory museum! And guess what?" He smiled big. "They're going to credit _my_ name to the discovery!"

* * *

_A/N: As I'm sure any would-be author would say: feedback is appreciated!_


	4. They Come in Pints

**The Fifth Bag Slot: They Come in Pints**

_In which the alcohol content, the snowfall, and the plot of the story all thicken._

Aize answered the knock on her door and saw Anchor standing there, a grin on his face. He held up a stack of papers with red ink marks everywhere and a bold red "B-"on the front.

"I passed." He said proudly.

"Oh, the midterm essays. Congratulations." Aize walked back to grab her own stack of papers off a desk and held them up for Anchor to see. She'd gotten an "A," but Anchor was relieved that his wasn't the only paper marred in red. Aize shrugged, "I don't expect him to scale any of the grades; one student did manage to get a perfect score."

Anchor grimaced, "Crystal?"

"Ha!" Aize barked and looked amused, "No, definitely not. It was Spinebreaker."

"Who?" He didn't recognize the name.

"Spinebreaker Spitpaw; you know, the charr that sits in our row."

"Her? I didn't know she was…" he stopped short of saying the word _sane, _"uh, capable."

"She reads a lot." Aize said dismissively. "It's all I've ever seen her do outside of class."

"Well, never mind that; I came here because we must celebrate!" Anchor announced. "You helped me pass, I owe you a beer."

"They serve beer in the mess hall?" Aize asked.

"At the tavern!" Anchor laughed. "It's not far; maybe a mile down the mountain. Mostly priory members there, but the owner's a norn. It's a good tavern. Come on, you'll like it - it's the least I can do."

"Leave? Tonight?" Aize took a step back into her room, looking nervous. "I can't."

"Why not?" Anchor demanded.

"It's just – I'm tired, you know? And I have studying to do."

"Studying? But nothing's due tomorrow."

"I'm behind." Aize said hastily. "I can't go with you, I'm sorry. Not tonight." She eased the door closed until there was only a sliver left open. "Enjoy your beer!" She called, and then the door was shut, leaving Anchor alone in the hallway.

* * *

Anchor did travel to the tavern that night – conquests were meant to be celebrated, and he had conquered a foe more intimidating than any wild predator he'd ever hunted. What he could not have known when he arrived, however, was that it was to be the worst tavern experience of his life.

It wasn't any of the other patrons; there were a lively bunch of priory members there, largely norn, drinking and talking merrily under the tavern's wood beams. It wasn't the atmosphere; the hearth burned bright and warm to counter the snow falling outside, while the detached heads of bighorn sheep looked down from the walls. No, the tavern itself was wonderful.

Everything went downhill the moment he had decided to make conversation with one of the priory professors – a likable man who seemed happy to talk to Anchor about the weather and the difficulty of essays. But then, Anchor had offered to bring them both another round of beer. The man declined and kindly, in a soft and nonjudgmental way, said the words that Anchor wished he could un-hear: "Oh no, thank you. I never have more than one; I try to be responsible."

By the time Anchor made it back to the bar for a refill, he'd already lost the wrestling match with his conscience. He'd begged, he'd pleaded, but his conscience refused to let go of the idea: the new, _responsible_ Anchor the Storm would only have one beer.

"What have I done?" He moaned to no one in particular as he made the hike back to the priory. It was dark and the snow still fell heavily, but Anchor took his time walking up the mountain path. His conscience tried to console him: _It'll be worth it, you'll see. There's more to life than beer. _But Anchor only half listened; he wasn't sure if he was on speaking terms with his better nature at the moment. He was sure of one thing: from now on, he would always be ordering the largest size mug available.

The orange glow of torches lit his path up the stone steps as he came closer to the Priory. He was nearly at the entrance, when something caught his eye. There, in the shadows of the great priory walls, just outside the reach of torchlight, two figures stood talking. A dark hood covered the features of one, but through the darkness Anchor's sharp hunter's eyes could make out a profile that was clearly human or sylvari. The other figure made him pause; there was something familiar about it. A flash of glowing yellow eyes confirmed it. But what was Aize doing out here?

The pair seemed to spot him. There was an abrupt exchange of hand gestures that indicated a hurried end to the conversation, and then the hooded figure was gone, disappeared into the snow and shadow.

Anchor stood where he was, waiting. Aize approached him, arms wrapped around herself against the cold. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Walking back from the tavern," Anchor said slowly. "What are _you_ doing? Who was that?"

"Just another student," Aize answered, her gaze darting away to the flickering torches.

"Who?"

"No one you would know." She finally looked back at him and tried to give him one of her plastic smiles, but it looked even more forced than normal. "Can we go in? Conditions out here are nearing hypothermic."

They walked into the priory together, but Aize didn't seem to be in the mood for any more conversation. She said goodnight and immediately took the stairs to the girls' dorm rooms. Anchor was left in the lobby with his unanswered questions and an unsettled feeling in his gut.


	5. The Thaw

**The Fifth Bag Slot: The Thaw**

_In which an epic quest strikes, a charr losses it, Steward Gixx makes an appearance, and the sylvari are, once again, the butt of a joke._

For the first time, their Excavation 101 professor was running late to class. Several students made the most of the opportunity by catching up on sleep, their faces flat on their desks and drool pooling around them. Anchor rubbed a hand over his face and resisted the temptation to join them. When the teacher finally did arrive, it was in a flurry of papers and disheveled hair.

"Class, I have exciting news," he began. "As some of you senior students may know, three months ago the Priory discovered what we believe to be the location of the buried residence of Gedmor Stonesteady, prominent dwarf entrepreneur and historian of his time."

Beside him, Anchor noticed Aize come to rapt attention, her ears perking forward. Anchor took the cue and roused himself to listen up.

"We've been unable to make headway in excavating the area due to the environment; our scholars estimate the tundra has been frozen over for centuries. But recently, observers have noticed an increase in area temperature, and thawing has started to occur." The teacher paused to take an excited breath. "Now, we don't know how long these conditions will last, this could be a onetime chance to finally make a discovery! The Durmand Priory has called all available scholars and explorers to the site; but as you know, with the recent creation of the Pact, many of our members have other duties. That is why - and this decision comes straight from Steward Gixx – we have decided to include you, our students, in the operation!"

Excited murmuring broke out in the room. Anchor had no idea who this dwarf had been or why finding his house was so important, but the prospect of a fieldtrip raised his spirits immediately.

"Now," the teacher raised his voice over the chatter. "The site is about day and a half journey from the priory headquarters, and we plan to leave early tomorrow. Preparations for packing supplies and equipment will begin this afternoon, everyone will be expected to help prepare! The area is inhospitable, members are encouraged to visit the armory and arm themselves – _lightly_!" He sent a knowing glare to a charr student who was grinning. "The area is large and we may only have a limited time to work, so you will be split into 3 man teams. You are free to choose your teammates, but I will reserve the right to reassign!"

At that point, the teacher was drowned out as friends flocked together and previously shy students made hasty introductions. Awkwardly, Anchor and Aize looked at each other and then to only student who hadn't left them in the fray: Spinebreaker Spitpaw. The charr looked even more unhinged than normal, her eyes wide and her lips twitching with undecipherable noises.

Anchor cleared his throat and attempted to be friendly. "Hello there, uh…"

"Spinebreaker," Aize whispered.

"Spinebreaker. Do you…have a team yet?" Anchor asked her. She turned her crazed eyes on him and shook her head. "Well, ah, do you want to team with us?" The charr murmured something that they could only assume was agreement.

"Everyone listen!" The teacher interrupted the chaos. "I am dismissing you now to pack! We will gather outside the armory at one o'clock to begin packing equipment. Do not be late!"

* * *

The first thing Anchor did was reach under his bed and pull out his bow and arrow quiver. It felt so right to hold them in his hand again…he gave in and kissed both objects. There wasn't much else for him to pack; he stuffed an extra shirt into a worn leather backpack and tucked a hunting knife into his belt. Outfitted as he was, a visit to the armory seemed unnecessary, but he followed instructions and went there next. A well organized array of weaponry occupied the cellar-like space that was the priory armory. The dingy room was alive with students wielding their inexperience around. It made Anchor cringe to watch.

He found Aize studying a pair of plain-hilted daggers. "I see you've already chosen something," she said, nodding at the bow on his back, "though by the looks of it, you've had that bow for much longer than today."

Anchor couldn't stop his chest from puffing out a little. "Back home, they used to say that I was born with an arrow in my hand."

"Mmm." Aize picked up one of the daggers for inspection; the hilt fit perfectly in her small hand, and Anchor nodded his approval. As Aize attached the sheaths to a belt, they noticed Spinebreaker shuffle into the room. Oddly, she looked like she was cowering and flinching away from the very walls where weapons hung. Anchor and Aize were both hit with the unsettling idea of having to recommend a sharp object to their unstable teammate. But instead of going for any weapons, Spinebreaker went straight to them.

She stood before them and mumbled, looking desperate to communicate something.

"Uh, sorry, what was that?" Anchor asked.

She mumbled even more frantically, while Anchor and Aize exchanged helpless glances. Finally, it seemed, the charr was driven to the end of her rope.

"I LIKE BOOKS." She yelled. "DO I ASK FOR WEAPONS? NO! LEAVE THE PRIORY? NO! NO NO NO! LEAVE ME ALONE. I LIKE BOOKS!"

With that, she fell to all four legs and rushed out of the room, leaving Anchor and Aize gawking.

"What a strange charr." Aize finally commented.

* * *

_Of all the days to be late! _Anchor thought to himself as he hurried through the empty priory halls. Between oversleeping and some confusion over where everyone was supposed to meet this morning, Anchor was running late for the most important event of his priory experience. He turned a corner sharply and suddenly had to pull up short: there was Steward Gixx, standing in the hall outside his office.

Forgetting his great bulk, Anchor nearly entertained the idea of trying to tiptoe past. But his panic ceased when he saw that Gixx did not even seem to notice him. The asura was deep in thought, with a frown that gave Anchor a worried feeling.

"Is there something wrong?" Anchor got up the courage to ask.

"Hmm? Oh," Gixx looked up and quite obviously took stock of Anchor's novice-status attire. "No, it's nothing. Run along." When the norn swayed uncertainly but didn't leave, Gixx sighed and admitted sadly: "I lost one of my best cryptologists today." Anchor grimaced; he knew the priory could be dangerous work, but it was never pleasant to hear.

Gixx continued: "No one could date cremated remains like he could – but I had no choice but to expel him from the priory once the evidence became irrefutable that he was working for the Order of Whispers."

"The Order of Whispers?" Anchor's brows knit together. He'd heard of the organization, but their exact purpose was a mystery to him. In fact, no one seemed to know what their true purpose was; highly suspicious, to Anchor's reasoning.

"Spies and saboteurs, the whole lot of them," Gixx spat. "Infiltrating the Priory to steal whatever suits their convoluted agenda. I suppose it only goes to show – you never can be too careful with who you trust." Gixx shook his head with remorse while Anchor digested the information. When the norn glanced back down, Gixx was glaring at him with an exaggerated frown. "Aren't you running a bit late, novice?" Anchor hurried down the hall.

* * *

"Stay in sight of the dolyaks! Breaks will be coordinated with the group; do NOT fall behind! Don't – what are you doing? Don't walk all in a cluster like that; that's a good way to push somebody off a cliff! Look here, just spread out a little –" The priory group, with their ever-attentive teacher, had already started to hike down the path by the time Anchor caught up to them. It was quite the sight; blue hooded figures of all shapes and sizes, with tall packs that clanked when the metal tools attached to them swung, all milling down the snow dusted trail. Searching the group, Anchor spotted Aize and sprinted to catch up.

"Difficulty navigating your way out of bed this morning?" Aize smirked by way of greeting.

Anchor took a moment to overlook the people around them. "Where's Spinebreaker?"

"Haven't seen her," Aize shrugged.

"You two!" Their teacher suddenly appeared, swimming upstream in the sea of priory members to reach them. He took a moment to catch his breath before addressing them again; "You two will be down a member this trip. Spinebreaker Spitpaw has…well, she's been reassigned - reassigned to a library internship." He paused to gaze pensively into the distance, "I think she'll be happier there…" The three of them all nodded together in solemn agreement, before the teacher left them to return to the head of the caravan.

The group hiked onward in good spirits, with happy chatter accompanying the heavy footsteps. They traveled up mountainside paths and down through valley trails, keeping good pace until late in the afternoon. They finally stopped to make camp in a grassy field at the base of a looming mountain whose snowcapped peaks harbored their destination. But that hike would wait till morning; for the time being, they used the late day light to set up tents and campfires.

Anchor chewed on a strip of jerky as he wandered near the camp, gathering firewood. The sylvari members in the group had all convened under a cluster of pine trees and seemed to be debating whether or not pine needles could be digested raw. Anchor added a final stick to the bundle in his arms and walked towards the tents to drop it all in a crudely constructed fire pit. Then, he sat heavily on a nearby log where Aize was already perched, rummaging through her pack.

"There it is." She mumbled, pulling a rolled up paper out and spreading it in front of her.

"What's that?" Anchor asked, getting more jerky from his side pocket and offering some to Aize.

She absently accepted the strip and stuck in the side of her mouth. "It's a map – well, blueprints, really. Gedmor Stonesteady's estate. Massive construct; half built into pre-existing caverns and half built above ground. Impressive…but not architecturally sound enough to withstand a glacial quake. This part here," She pointed to the drawings, "has probably collapsed. Doesn't really matter; it was only the recreational parts of the house, dining rooms, ballroom, things like that." Aize waved a hand dismissively. "What's important is over here, deeper in the caves: Gedmor's personal library."

Anchor nodded, trying to distinguish the actual shape of the estate from the smudged metrics covering the paper. "Where did you get this?"

"The Priory vaults."

Anchor took in the frayed and cracked edges of the obviously ancient document. "They let you bring this?"

Aize gave him a condescending look and then went back to pouring over her map. "It was hardly doing anybody any good, sitting back at the Priory instead of coming along to the one site where the information could actually be of some use." She caught the aghast look Anchor was giving her and added: "I'll take good care of it."

In the distance, there was a commotion as a sylvari lost his lunch.

"This dwarf, he must have been powerful in his day. I have a lot left to do before I can imagine people searching for my belongings after my death." Anchor said.

Aize scoffed in the direction of the priory teachers' tent. "They're all convinced that the answer to defeating the Elder Dragons lies just around the corner. That's what all this obsession is about." She stretched her shoulders and cracked her fingers. "Gedmor was a businessman; his power was his money. He never had any interest in dragons."

"You don't believe this dig could uncover anything that would help with the dragons?" Anchor asked.

Aize gazed thoughtfully at the blueprints before quietly replying, "Not…directly."

Anchor took out a flint stone from one of his side pockets and knelt next to their fire pit, encouraging the dry twigs to catch the spark as he waited to see if Aize would explain her cryptic words. She remained silent and hunched over her blueprints, however, until the last of the daylight sunk behind the mountains and people started to gather around the fires to cook and eat. Exhausted from the day's hike, the evening social was short-lived and soon the tents were filled with sleeping bodies; the chorus of night owl calls and field crickets echoing through the valley.

* * *

_A/N: Feedback welcome!_


End file.
